


Under The Same Sheets

by InesStarkDowney



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, It's about that night, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Sleeping Together, Team as Family, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 17:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10470258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InesStarkDowney/pseuds/InesStarkDowney
Summary: Clint assigned them one room, one bed, but that night Steve was sleeping on the floor and Tony was sleeping on the bed. It was okay and there were no second thoughts, despite the little voices that might have told them it was a lost chance.So yes, it was okay... until Tony was bolting up in bed, screaming Steve's name and Steve was rushing over. It was for the best, the two of them together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> To this day, the goddamn thought that Steve and Tony slept together in AOU haunts me and despite all the fanfic I read about that night, I had to write my own take on it. I'm still not sure I wanted this to exactly happen, since there are many scenarios in my head. But it's something at least.

There was water everywhere, in his eyes, in his mouth, in his lungs, but he didn’t have a body and he didn’t have a voice, though he could feel the screams leave him, but he never got to hear them. Then there was a sun too hot, and the sky was blue, this light blue that reminded him of his days in Malibu, and New York rose around him, in its full glory. Until it all crumbled in ashes and blood with the screams of people that were nowhere to be seen, and the hole, the hole in the sky where it wasn’t blue but dark and without any stars shinning. He could feel the sweat, cold, running down his back, but he couldn’t run, not even if in his mind there was this red alarm, the red alarm that had been on for years. Then it was too late, they were here and with them came along death. Bruce, Thor, Clint, Natasha, Steve. Steve. Ste-

"Steve!"

Tony sat up in the small bed, looking at the wooden door in front of him, the entire room swimming in darkness, breathing in and out, his chest tight and aching, his eyes wet with tears and his body shaking. Tony was shaking all over, feeling as if he was about to come undone, like they, they, they had, oh God, they had come undone. The tears ran faster along with the shuddering breaths of trying to stay alive, as he held on for dear life on the sheets.

"Tony? Tony, I’m here, hey, Tony…"

Tony looked to his left to find those blue eyes he thought he had seen lifeless just seconds ago and a little cry came out of him. He was breaking.  
Steve had been on the floor, half asleep, half looking for any giving sounds of danger. He was used to it, having been in the army, in the middle of the bloodiest war to ever happen, but never had he once heard those sounds of helplessness, of fright and pain. Steve had rose immediately to see a whimpering Tony on the bed, crying out in his sleep, shaking and shuddering, fighting something he couldn’t shake off. And Steve knew then, that he wasn’t the only one who feared sleep and the darkness behind his eyes that held too many horrors. They all had gone through too much and all of it stuck to their skins. Tony wasn’t any different. It hurt Steve. He wished Tony could have the peace Steve couldn’t find even after all these years since he came out of the ice.

But then, then his name came out of Tony’s lips in a desperate cry and Tony was bolting up in bed, coming up for air. Steve’s heart shrunk and all that he always tried to keep under his skin in front of Tony came out without any control and Steve had to touch him, hold him.

The way Tony looked at him, like he was seeing a ghost, told him enough. There were far too many demons in their life, some that one day would come to life whether they wanted it or not. And Tony’s was one of them. For now, though, Steve was alive and Steve was there for him.

Tony let go of the sheets, soaked in sweat and averted his gaze. Reality dawned on him, and Tony quickly dried the tears that didn’t want to stop and instead of looking at Steve like Tony was a lost boy, he looked out the window, where he could see the forest and the moon slightly above. 'That’s where my demons have gone to hide now that Steve is here… Cowards. I’m a coward.'

Steve was still there, looking at Tony, worried, and Tony knew it, but he didn’t have the voice to tell him to go back to sleep nor the strenght to push Steve away. Tony was too tired to fight for a while, he just wanted some peace. Although the peace didn’t come, the fear, the cold and the anger hanged on Tony, his body still shaking.

"You’re cold."

Steve said and Tony didn’t have enough time to even look back and answer with one look before the bed dipped under the weight of Steve and he was pulling him back down. Tony startled himself but as soon as he noticed how Steve’s grip was soft and kind, even if pulling, Tony went down on the bed, his head back on the pillow and his body back on the wet, cold sheets. The big difference was Steve. Steve was there. Steve was holding Tony against his chest, his arm around Tony’s stomach and his chin resting on top of Tony’s bed hair.

There were no words of denial or rejection. There were no questions. There was only the comfortable heat that emanated from Steve’s body and the small sigh that escaped Tony’s lips without a second thought.

They stayed like that, in silence, Tony perfectly tucked under Steve’s chin and Steve perfectly snaked around Tony. Steve waited to hear Tony’s breathing settle, he waited for Tony’s heart to calm down from fear. But for a while, Tony still stayed wide awake, his eyes no longer wide, and his body no longer shaking, but his blood ran faster than ever and there was someone spiking him from the inside as he grasped and let go of the sheets under him. Steve noticed and, without a second though, reached for Tony’s hand and intertwined his fingers with Tony’s, because right then he could do that. Steve was just Peter Pan helping a lost boy.

Tony’s heart stopped at the sight, at the warmth and the softness of Steve’s hand around his. Then it started again, this time slower and calmer as if they had the rest of the time to stay there, like that. As if the demons didn’t run after them once they settled far enough, in a safe place. Steve felt Tony calm down and with a whisper, he said:

"Rest. I won’t leave you."

Tony heard it and it stayed with him. Tony let himself give in, as he relaxed under Steve’s touch and seemed to melt against his body, closing his eyes and falling asleep at peace. Steve stood awake for a while, afraid that they would come back for Tony again. But Tony didn’t move if not to sneak up closer to Steve, to press harder into him, as if he was trying to find a place to hide. For that night, he was happy to be Tony’s hiding spot. However, knowing Tony and reality, it wouldn’t happen again… And this would stay in the back of his mind, a rusted memory.

The next morning Steve woke up earlier, but didn’t move a single inch. It was far too early, everyone else was still asleep in the farm and besides, Steve didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay like that for as long as he could, with Tony in his arms, trusting Steve to keep him safe and sound, with his hand in his. So Steve did.

Steve watched as the night sky became clearer and clearer until the sun was peaking over the hills, from between the tress, shining in the bedroom. Tony’s frame seemed to have a light aura around it, his skin looked warm and delicate and everything felt and looked like a dream, one of those really good dreams where Steve woke up in bed with Tony in his arms, under rumpled sheets and with this soft blush on his cheeks. It was almost like that. Almost.

Steve tried to cherish the moment. He took deep breathes, and felt himself relax. With Tony’s hand still in his, Steve circled Tony’s knuckles and veins with his thumb, ever so slowly and delicately. Steve breathed in the smell of Tony, of sweat, of musk, of oil that never seemed to leave him even after he left the workshop and of lavender, from yesterday’s soap bar that was in one of the farm’s bathrooms where they showered. Tony smelled like home, and Steve felt a smile grow on his lips. For a while, Steve could pretend this was a normal morning, where he knew Tony’s smell by heart and the feeling of his body wasn’t foreign. He could… But then doors started to open on the other side of the house and Steve could hear a fridge being open together with voices too familiar and yet so new.

"Daddy, can you make your French toasts since your friends are here?", A little girl asked and Steve remembered: 'It’s Clint’s daughter'.

"Of course, honey. Go sit down with your brother and bring your uncles. It’s time to get this party started!"

More voices followed, and they seemed far cheerful and calm, as if for one morning they were ignoring the reality outside, as if for one morning they could be normal people, a family, having breakfast.

Steve sighed and took one last breath of innocence and home, before sliding from bed, from Tony and from the grip of his hand. Steve looked down on him, and if he had not hold himself back he would have bent down and kissed his cheek. Instead, Steve simply grasped his shoulder and went into the bathroom.

Once the door closed Tony let out a shuddering breath. He had been awake for the last hour, keeping himself still in Steve’s arms, feeling the caresses on his hand and the deep breaths he took from time to time before nuzzling against Tony.

Tony had to fight the urge to crawl inside Steve and never leave, the need to look up to him and kiss him, holding on tight to his shoulders, to make sure to never let go, because… How could he ever let go of something like that? Something that eats you whole and raw, fills your chest with air so you never run out of it, touches you like you are art but it won’t burn you, breathes you in like it’s you who keeps him alive.

Tony felt dizzy and breathless, feeling as if he had lost a limb he never knew he had. Tony was suddenly cold without Steve around him. But Tony was already used to the coldness; he just never thought that after being touched by the sun, the cold would be far more violent. Tony was freezing.

Still, Tony uncovered himself and set his feet on the wooden floor, warm against his feet. He got up and before going into the noise in the kitchen that currently held giggles and exclamation remarks Tony looked at the bed and then the bathroom. It had been good, too good, in fact, to be true.

When Steve left the bathroom already dressed in a black t-shirt and a flannel shirt with jeans, he stopped at the empty bed. It was over. Something dropped inside of Steve, but he had to swallow it down even further. It couldn’t come up ever again. So he put his shaking hands inside his pockets and walked out into the kitchen.

Everyone was sitting down at the table, his friends and their kids having breakfast: French toasts with bacon, scrambled eggs and some orange juice. Everyone bid him good morning with a smile that was far too characteristically of only those mornings when they had no one to fight.  
The kids smiled at him, Laura as well, and from between all those people he came to call his family in this century, was Tony, sitting down, eating and happily talking to the older boy about robots, despite the one that was out there trying to kill them.

Steve smiled, because this one he couldn’t help and sat down, with a full plate in front of him not even five seconds after. He picked up the fork and knife and let himself slide into that temporary happiness and non-worry over the world. He had a whole day after to sweat it out.

In the middle of it all though, through the good, something better came out when Steve’s gaze met Tony’s and a smile came along, from both of them. The looks were far too long compared to before, but it wasn’t bad, not at all. It was in fact very good. Steve saw something in Tony’s eyes and in the way he smiled secretly at him.

Steve breathed in and he breathed in home.


End file.
